Profound Bond
by ava-bell-yan
Summary: What if Dean never listened to Sam's final words? WARNING: Torture- Gore  rewritten  Destiel. Soulless Sam.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Word Count: 887**

There was this moment, after Sam came back just for that one moment. When he looked Dean in the eyes and said his goodbye before throwing himself, Lucifer and Michael into the hole. It was only for a split second but Dean will never be able to get it out of his head. 

It was regret. 

He saw all the regret that Sam had. For leaving them and getting Jessica killed; for letting Ruby get to him and for the death of Jo and Ellen. There was regret in how they couldn't save their Father, and how he regretted being who he was- getting their Mother killed. Dean could feel that Sam blamed himself for everything that had happened. He saw how Sam regretted ever saying yes to Lucifer and how he regretted all the choices he made that lead them to this moment in time. To this point where they would be separated forever. Dean couldn't let Sam be held solely responsible, he made mistakes too but Sam went down thinking it was all his fault. Now Dean had to live with the fact that Sam may never know that he wasn't responsible for everything. 

The Apocalypse had been averted and somehow he knew that Castiel was going to leave him again. He never expected him to stay but somehow it felt like he was losing his brother all over again. In the time that Castiel has been with them, he felt like he was part of the family. Dean couldn't count the number of times that Cas stuck his neck out for them, and now he was going to lose another member of his sad messed up family. So, when Cas approached him for what felt like the last time. That finality in his angel's bright blue eyes he couldn't take it anymore but pride got in the way of him showing any emotion that might make Cas stay just a little while longer. He was sure that the struggle was apparent on his face, he wanted Cas to stay. The worst part of Sam leaving for Stanford wasn't that his brother had stopped hunting, but that he had left Dean alone. He couldn't handle being alone, and now he was afraid of what he might do without someone there. There was still a part of him deep down that was a monster, and he didn't know how long he could go on without it coming out and hurting someone- an innocent someone.

"I must go." Cas started, regret also in his eyes- Just like Sam. "A war has already begun in Heaven." Cas stated giving Dean that intense gaze that he always did.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out." Dean turned away from Castiel and gestured towards the door of his cheap motel room. Ignoring the way his voice seemed to crack.

"I wanted to say goodbye." Cas stood stoically, watching Dean. "I don't know if I will return." He said with a touch of sadness that Dean was sure he imagined.

"We all have our wars to fight." Dean said packing up his duffel, almost violently shoving his jeans into the bag.

"This had been proven." Cas agreed but didn't move from his spot.

Minutes passed as Dean continued to pack up his things and Castiel just standing there. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but it still left Dean breathless as he finished packing. He still refused to turn around as he zipped up his bag, unsure if he could handle the look of pity Cas was probably going to give him.

"Cas, is there something you need?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"I don't want to leave." The angel said looking at Dean was sure with that piercing stare once again.

"Then don't." Dean said turning towards the angel.

"Perhaps." Cas said still not having moved from his position.

"Perhaps?" Dean asked with an incredulous look on his face. "No, if you're going to stay you're going to make a decision here and now. You either stay with me or you go back to heaven and fight your damned war." Dean spat as he made his way over to Castiel.

He wasn't stupid, Dean knew what he was asking from Castiel. He was asking him to leave his family and abandon everyone he ever loved and held dear to him. Dean could see it in the angel's eyes as he thought of the consequences of leaving, how many angel's would die because of he left? Cas, seemed to look at a spot over Dean's shoulder in thought for a moment before turning his head to look at the man in front of him. The hunter didn't realize he was holding his breath until Cas looked at him, his blue eyes intense with emotion.

"Then I will stay with you." He spoke with a special reverence and his eyes seemed to be brighter than usual.

Dean gave a short nod never breaking eye contact with the angel. It was good enough for him. At this point, Dean Winchester would take all the help that he could get. He was going to get his brother back and with Cas on his side, he knew he could do it. 


	2. Nightmares

**Chapter One: Nightmares**

**Word Count: 2, 017**

His flesh boiled and bubbled with the intensity of lava that filled his veins. He could feel nothing but the heat and he felt as his skin melted away, leaving his fragile body exposed. The fire started to eat away at his muscles- leaving him bloody. Pain coursed through his body and he was held by chains the pulled him in every which direction. There was no way he could escape this even if he had the strength but all he felt was fire and smell his burning flesh. He could taste it in his mouth and he choked as he screamed out. There was no stopping it, he deserved it, the punishment, the pain. Yet, he couldn't help but call out- please, make it stop. He had been here for too long, forty years was too long to keep hope of escape. Sammy had given up him and he could feel it. There was no going back to his brother, there wasn't going to be no relief. Not even if there was, he wouldn't accept it- he deserved this, somehow he knew that he deserved this for all of the mistakes he made. He didn't protect Sam enough, he could have fought harder, lived better. That's when Alistair appeared to him, with that sick twisted smile he always wore. Clearly a man who loved his job way too much. Not that Dean could blame him, what else was there to do in Hell?

Gurgling from deep in his chest he spat out blood as his body was repaired quickly by the Demon before him, it was hot and tasted like copper. It came out in a rush and Dean couldn't stop it as it choked him. For a moment he felt whole again, felt alive until he saw the edge of the knife come close to graze the sensitive skin on his chest. There was split second where there was nothing, when the high of his newly repaired body stopped. He was no longer chained, he was simply strapped to a table, he had been on this table thousands of times yet his heart always sped up and his palms always sweat. He never came accustomed to it, at least his body didnt- his mind did. It came to the point where he welcomed the pain. Physically, the pain was too much to handle and as Alistair made cut after cut but mentally, his resolve started to fail. As much as he enjoyed the pain, he knew it was wrong and he disgusted himself. He just wanted it to stop, all the pain, all the memories. He just wanted it all to stop and he knew he could stop it. He just had to one thing- say yes.

It always came down to that didn't it?

So, after what seemed like days and he was repaired to perfect health so he could be subjected to this torture all over again in a matter of minutes. Alistair paused in his ministrations to study Dean. His lips turned up into a nasty smirk. He then looked at the special knife he held in his hand, looking back at Dean over the blade. Setting it on the table that sat just to the side of where Dean was sprawled out on. Alistair unclasped Dean's hands, and let the straps loose that held the hunter down. The knife was just within reach, all Dean had to do was wrap his hand around the handle and he could be free.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up. Above him it was a never ending sky of red and orange. It was smoky and hell wasn't really all it was cracked up to be. Screams could be heard, others crying out for their loved ones- much like he always did. They all asked for forgiveness, and for a second chance. He knew it was the wrong choice, but all he wanted was the torture to stop. He had lost so much and he was tired of being the hero, he just wanted out. So, when he met Alistair's eyes he grabbed the knife and held it firmly in his hand. He had made his choice.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Alistair brought out his Dad. He should have felt some sort of regret when he saw his Father's eyes fill with tears. He should have cared when he his Father cried out and asked him about Sam. What would Sammy think about what he was doing? It didn't matter. He was his own boss now. He didn't have to answer to anyone or protect anyone. He just had a job to do. That was causing pain, which wasn't all that different from his life before. All he ever did was cause pain.

He actually smiled when he made that first slice at his Father. In fact, he felt great. He guessed it was therapeutic. The man that had ruined his life from the start, took away his childhood. He never stood a chance because of the man in front of him. Now he would pay for causing his life to be so messed up, and for Sam. What he was doing was for Sam, he had convinced himself that he choice this for his brother.

Dean learned quickly, he knew exactly how the human body worked. He could formulate the best way to cause pain. It wasn't until much later that it occurred to him that he could cause Alistair pain. That he could get revenge for all the pain he felt at Alistair's hand. It didn't take him long to start dreaming about it. To practice all the different ways he would get his perfect, sweet revenge. Even with all this hate, with all this evil inside of him. It never occurred to Dean that it should feel as if he made the wrong choice, that it all meant something more.

It wasn't long until he was pulled out. There was a white bright light and then- 

"Dean." Castiel's voice came from above him. "Dean, you are dreaming." A hand was on Dean's shoulder the same shoulder that hand the angel's palm scorched into his skin.

Dean's reaction was to violently jerk up, much like the way Cas and gripped him and raised him. Blinking away the tears the were burning his eyes, he took in his surroundings. Right, another cheap motel- Northern Michigan.

"What time is it?" He yawned, trying to suppress his memories. Trying to pretend it never happened, wiping away his tears.

"You were having a nightmare." Cas said with a tilt of his head.

"Yes, Cas." Dean sighed and turned his head away from the angel.

"Were you dreaming about hell?" Cas asked, his brow furrowed.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Dean sighed.

"You are in need of comfort." Cas stated sitting down next to Dean at the edge of the bed.

"No, Cas. I'm alright." Dean looked at his companion steadily.

"That is a lie." Cas spoke firmly causing Dean to sigh.

"Cas, really I'm fine." Dean said waving his head in front of him as he laid back down on the bed. "It was just a dream." _More like a memory._

There were no words from the Angel instead, Dean felt the other side of the bed dip. Castiel had moved to lay next to him on top on the blankets. Dean turned his head to say something but Castiel looked up at the ceiling. His face was troubled and he seemed as if he needed the comfort as much as Dean did. The hunter half expected the angel's arm to wrap around him, much like how Sam used to comfort him.

Dean's throat swelled and burned as hot tears filled his eyes once more. Sam. Thoughts of when he first came back from hell took over. The first few nights he didn't sleep, he knew nightmares would come and when his body finally gave out. It was Sam who crawled into bed with him and held him until he stopped convulsing. It was his brother that wiped away his tears and quieted his screams. Choking back his tears, Dean turned back to look at the ceiling. He let Cas stay where he was because he knew that he would keep the nightmares away. Even if for only a little while.

The next morning, Dean woke up with Cas still looking up at the ceiling. His breathing was even and the hunter may have thought he was asleep if it wasn't for fact that the angel's eyes were open. He had patiently laid next to him all night, seemingly comforting him into a deep sleep. There were no more nightmares that night, and Dean could almost feel as if Cas had something to do with it. That there was something he was doing besides just laying next to him, he felt something like love settle deep in his gut. Yet, he was sure it wasn't coming from him but from Cas. Oddly, he was okay with that and it left a smile on his face as they drove out of town. There was a hunt in Southern Virginia, and Dean was sure he could get them there in less than sixteen hours.

Dean thought they weren't any closer to getting Sam out.

Castiel rode all the way to Virginia with Dean, music was streaming from the radio and the angel came to terms with it being the same tracks over and over again. He thought that maybe Sam also had to come to terms with that, he remembered the first time he got into the Impala with Dean. _Driver choices the music, passenger shuts his cake hole._ That brought a slight smile to Cas's lips as he looked outside the window, he wished there was a way for him to get Sam out. Looking over at Dean now, who had been pretty much silent the entire drive- unless he was singing along to the words of the songs, rather horribly actually. Yet, Cas could not deny Dean that small comfort, it distracted him from Sam even if only momentarily. Now he was silent, his eyes on the stretch of road ahead of them. He had turned the music down low and Cas was barely aware of what time it was. They had stopped along the way for only Gas and food breaks. The angel was still unsure of when Dean actually relieved himself but he shook his head at the thought. The light had left the sky and maybe Dean had done it out of habit but Cas was sure that the hunter had turned down the music because Sam would have fallen asleep by now.

He could imagine Dean sitting in the driver's seat, singing along to his music, Sam having been participating only moments before. As Dean would look over to the passenger side he would see that Sam had dozed off. His head fallen back along the back of the seat, his body slouched and his legs spread apart for some type of spacial comfort. Cas could imagine how uncomfortable it would be or someone as large as Sam to fall asleep in a car, but it would not surprise him if he did it for Dean. He could see Dean shaking his head fondly and smiling at his brother, mumbling things about how Sam was a girl- which Cas never understood how it fit into the situation. Nonetheless, Cas was sure that the quiet stream of music was not for his benefit.

Studying Dean, the angel was sure that he would be surprised and eternally grateful if Cas somehow saved Sam from the cage. There was always a danger when it came to these things but Cas had done it once before- saved someone from Hell.

Saved _Dean_ from hell.

Castiel felt as if he could do no wrong, Dean would be pleased with him and that's all that mattered after getting Sam out.


	3. Taking Blame

**Chapter Two: Taking Blame**

**Word Count: 5,414**

The room was dark except for the moonlight outside his window. Another cheap motel, where the paint chipped off the walls and the faucet in the bathroom leaked. There were two beds even though only one of them was actually being used. The bed on the far right was still made and a duffel bag rested on top, guns, knifes, rope and clothes littered its surface. The bed to the left was unmade with the top cover falling off the side and the sheets rumpled. Not even hours before had there been two bodies in that bed, both slick with sweat and craving release. Of course she was gone now and he was left to himself. The room still smelt of sex,leaving the room's only occupant sticky and unclean, and alone at the table in front of the window. His chair was just to the left if someone were to look in. The headlights of a car rolled passed bringing his face into view for just a brief second. He's aged, not much

physically but the set in his jaw and the look in his eyes show the horrors he's seen. With short dark hair that reached out in every direction further proof of his previous activities he focused his attention to a spot on the table. Eyes dark, hard with intent, his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed together firmly. His left arm was laying out in front of him on the table, in his hand was a silver dagger. It was a decent size, the blade itself was thick and deadly sharp. The handle was sturdy and made of steel, holes sat in pairs on the handle increasing until they were large enough to slip ones fingers into.

Where his finger was currently curled through holding the weapon just above the table. With a flick of his finger the blade was swinging back and forth, his eyes following it and narrowing at the sight. The blade was pointed down towards the wooden surface, the moonlight reflecting off it's surface as it swung.

Days, weeks, months had passed since Sammy had gone into the pit with Michael and Lucifer. Still they were no closer to getting him out even if there was a way. With a final flick of his finger Dean's knife circled around his finger and he grabbed the handle in a practiced manner plunging the blade down into the table before him. Anger boiled inside of him. There was nothing he could do to help his brother and he felt helpless. He was supposed to be able to help his brother, get him out and patch him back together again. He wasn't even supposed to be in that damned pit. Slamming his clenched fist on the table next to the knife his breathing grew heavy. He could only imagine what was happening to Sam down there. He pictured Sam tied up in chains and bound to the point where he couldn't move. He imagined Lucifer and Michael taking turns on him as if he was some whore laid out for their pleasure. Standing and shoving the table away from him with such a force that it tipped over on its side he paced the room. His right hand brushed through his hair mussing it further then down his neck and up to cover his mouth where he then cupped his chin before letting his arm fall down again. Pacing the area between his bed and the table he just pushed over he brought both if his hands to rest

behind his head. They had just hit another dead end with from another rumor where a hunter claimed they knew someone who could get Sam out. That was why Dean wanted to drive all the way to fucking Southern Virginia- and maybe distract himself with another hunt but that did him no good. Now he was alone in a hotel room with nothing but himself to keep him sane. With a scoff, he could tell how well that was going and Cas had yet to return from where ever he went.

Sadness clawed away at Dean and he fought off tears as he let out a sound that was caught between a growl and a cry. When he overturned the mattress in his bed forcing it to knock into the other bed beside it and litter the floor with his toys. Frustration tore at him as he flung his arm out and knocked over the side table lamp and despair ate at him as he fell to his knees. His arms came up to hide his face as he collapsed into himself finally breaking down after all of this time. A sob tore through his lungs then another and then another until he could no longer breathe.

Something snapped inside of Dean then, and he felt something that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He wasn't sure how long he had been there sobbing like a baby but he was filled with sudden coldness, like an eery calm that settles in before the storm. His back was stiff but his shoulders were relaxed. He looked as if he had simply been brought to attention as he stood back up and looked around the room. With stony awareness he set the table back in its original position. Dislodging the knife and laying it almost reverently down on the table but only after he wiped the blade clean with his fingers. Turning around he knelt down and picked up the pieces to the broken lamp and set them on the table as well. Moving around he righted the mattress and settled it back down in its spot. He even went as far as to make the sheets and straighten out the duvet. Gathering his clothing he folded them all into his duffel back with military like precision and zipped it up. Setting it down at the edge of the bed he went around slowly picking up every weapon that had fallen to the ground along with the rope that he happened to have stored away. Each was held in his hands like it was his first born child. With every knife he would pick up he would admire the blade and run his fingers over the shinning silver, remembering the things he had done with the blade in particular. When he came across his colt he held it up and let it shimmer gently in the moonlight. His right hand moved slowly over the barrel as he cradled it in his left hand. Bringing it down gently to lay it down on the bed spread next to his knifes he finally let out a deep sigh.

He paused then, suddenly aware of the way that the air changed, closing his eyes and breathing in and out before he turned around. He hadn't expected him back so soon or even at all. It still surprised him that Castiel would still show up and help him. Never disappearing for more than a couple of days or so, instead of weeks or all together.

"Dean." Castiel's rough voice came from behind him and he opened his eyes.

"Cas." He greeted turning around slowly to face his angel.

"I apologize. I was...gone longer than I anticipated." Cas said looking around the room before letting his gaze fall on Dean.

"Things happen." Dean replied with a shrug of his shoulders but his eyes were cold, hard.

"Something has happened." Cas stated his brow furrowing together and his head tilting to the side.

"You can say that." Dean nodded in agreement as he slowly approached Cas. "You can say a lot of things have happened since Lucifer took Sam as his meat suit." The elder Winchester spoke calmly and coldly as he stood in front of the Angel, their faces only inches apart. "You see Cas, a lot has happened since then but nothing has gotten us closer to getting him out." Dean's jaw clenched and Cas straightened his stance.

"There have been no leads." Cas said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Whose fault is that?" Dean took the last step, getting in Cas's face.

"You are not the only one who is suffering, Dean." Cas spoke with authority, eyes narrowing even further.

"No," Dean met the angel's eyes before looking down. "you will be too." The moment that Cas tilted his head in confusion Dean took that as a chance to shove. 

The back of Cas's head hit the wall as he collided, plaster crumbling behind him. Dean grabbed the front of the angel's trench coat and pulled him forward. Using the momentum to throw him unto the bed that Dean had occupied just hours before. Bouncing off of the mattress and falling to the floor, Cas rolled over unto his side. Spiting the blood that had gathered in his mouth from biting his lip as his head came in contact with the wall- he began to stand. Dean took advantage of his momentary weakness and kicked him in the stomach. Boot coming together with flesh repeatedly, bones easily cracking and breaking with each kick. As Cas lay there on the wooden floor, bleeding Dean yanked him up by his collar and dragged him to the table. Forcing him to lay back down unto its surface Dean reached out with his free hand and grabbed the knife that was sitting just above Castiel's right shoulder. Turning the knife around to get a better grip on the handle, Dean forced all of his weight onto Cas.

"We all suffer, Cas." Dean's face was close to the angel's as he held the knife just above his throat.

"You can't hurt me, Dean." Cas choked out blood spluttering onto his chin, Dean knew that Cas's body was healing as they spoke. He wasn't going to give the Angel's vessel time to repair itself, not with what he had planned.

"Watch me." Dean spat getting a firmer hold on the knife's handle before gripping it and thrusting it into Castiel's shoulder.

Crying out the angel attempted to claw at Dean, trying to move him in order to remove the knife from his shoulder. Dean just pushed further, forcing the knife deeper, and pushing himself more into the body beneath him. With a quick twist of the blade, the knife torn away muscle and scraped over bone. Castiel groaned in pain and failed at another attempt to get Dean off of him. Lifting off of him just enough, Dean reached with his elbow and smashed it across the angel's face. Bone cracked and blood spurted everywhere, leaving the angel unconscious. Standing up slowly Dean looked down at the mess before him. His eyes were cold and empty but his lips twitched up into a sinister smile. He felt good, he couldn't remember the last time he let this part of himself free.

His eyes fluttered open and he was met with the harsh bright light overhead. The air around him was hot and moist. He was left only in the slacks that he always wore and there was sweat sliding down his back and chest. Chains held his wrists just high enough to let him hang and still have his feet brush the ground. His arms were slightly behind him as he leaned forward in an attempt to pull himself free. Yet he was powerless, too drained to put up much of a fight. His previous injuries were healed, still he was sore from Dean's earlier abuse and the fight that he had been in before. The struggle to get Sam, one that had ended in a way that Castiel and not expected. Looking over to his right he could see nothing past the light that was shinning just above him and as he rolled his head forward it was the same no matter where he looked. His time helping Dean had left him weak and his powers were too drained to permit him to do anything. The irony of his position did not escape him either, he suspected Dean had purposefully put him in the same manner Jesus had been on the cross. With another attempt of lifting himself up, he flexed his arms working hard to somehow pull himself out of his restraints. The muscles of his back flexed almost painfully with the way his body was and a strangled groan escaped his lips. That's when he heard heavy footfalls sound in front of him. It wasn't until he heard the sound of something being dropped on what he could only imagine was a table to his left that he was again face to face with Dean Winchester.

"I must say, Cas. You were out a lot longer then I thought you would be." Dean sinister smile was inches from his face. "Not that it mattered much. It gave me time to prepare myself. After all, we do share a Profound...Bond." Dean leaned in even more his breath could be felt on his lips, subconsciously he licked them. Noting the way Dean's eyes followed his tongue.

"What do you think you will accomplish by doing this?" His question came out harsh and gritty, much like the way his throat felt.

Instead of getting an answer, Dean took a step away from him and turned away. He couldn't see but he could hear the sound of a bag being unzipped. Immediately he thought of Dean's duffel bag, and over the months of them spending time together he had memorized everything that was in that bag. He imagined Dean pulling out a silver dagger, one he kept just in case he encountered another shape shifter. The blade itself was no longer then six inches, the handle was shinning ivory and it looked old. It would be handled with great care but he wouldn't know why. His only theory was that it was given to Dean by his Father before he died. Next would come the dozen throwing knives he carried, mainly only used for target practice but were handy in a fight. There is a whole at the top of each handle, just large enough to get a finger in giving the one throwing it leverage to throw it anywhere they want. He remembered Dean used some to pin down a demon he was attempting to get information from. They cut deep but left thin lines. Making the one that had been injured seem like they had only been scratched, when in reality a major artery was punctured. They would then bleed out more slowly then normal, begging for death as they laid there and watched their attacker leave them there on the floor.

The next weapon Dean would pull out would be his Colt 1911 A1 .45 semi-automatic, his hand would caress the engravings and he would hold it with reverence as he admired the ivory handle. He will hold it in his had for a moment, remember all the times he had to use it. Relive each and every one of those memories, the evil things he's killed and the lives he has saved. Then he will set it down gently, but off to the side not near to the weapons he has recently pulled out. This is because he wouldn't use it. Castiel predicted that in the next few minutes Dean would finished gathering all of his knives, his wide collection of newer and older, almost ancient looking blades. One that stood out the most had a thick black handle, easy enough to grip and the blade, wide but narrowed as it curved slightly upwards. This was the most lethal blade of Dean's collection, to thin to be felt at high speeds, nearly impossible to stop. Setting that knife down Castiel pictured Dean reaching into his bag for his last weapon.

This one's handle was too large for Dean's hand, needing to hold it steadily with both. The top was smooth and silver could be seen under the leather wrapping. Crisscrossing down the handle the thick leather covered the handle of the blade and passed onto the blade about an inch and a half. A knot was tied to keep the wrapping in place. This blade was thick and extended down Dean's forearm to end just after his palm. It was too long to be a dagger for Dean but not long enough to be a short sword. Except to it's owner it was the perfect size. Castiel closed his eyes and hung his head forward. He could almost see Dean stare at the weapon in his hands, gripping the handle reverently at first but then tightening at the memory of losing his brother. He pictured Dean's hand wrapped around the blade, his jaw would be clenched and his eyes would be focused on his now bleeding hand forcing the tears to disappear. Cas knew better then to talk Dean out of what he was going to do. He heard Sam's weapon be set down as the table was moved closer to him. Closing his eyes he let himself feel what Dean was feeling. He knew what it was like losing his siblings, knowing that there was no way that he could have prevented their deaths. Gabriel was in the fore front of his mind and the pain he felt tore through him, choking him so he couldn't breathe. Gabriel had sacrificed himself just like Sam had, except there was no way to bring his brother back. Pausing, he swallowed down the human emotions he felt. Raising his head he opened his eyes again to the harsh light before him and met the cold hard eyes of Dean.

Dean held in his hand a container, it was large and ceramic looking. Castiel recognized it as the one he had handed the hunter not too long before- maybe only months. The angel had to hide his surprise, it was the one thing that Cas never told the Winchesters' about Holy Oil. Not only was it good for keeping angel's from running away but the oil had other uses, ones that until this point the Angel never considered Dean would use. The hunter held up the container, making sure that Castiel could watch as he pulled out the cork. A smile made its way to Dean's lips, it was sinister and promised of things to come, things that Cas did not want to think about.

"Dean, you don't have to do this." Castiel rasped pulling at his chains. Dean let out a menacing laugh.

"You see Cas," Dean smirked at the Angel, holding the oil up higher. "I do and you know why?" He asked looking at the angel in the eyes, moving an arm his free arm to rest on Cas's shoulder. "Because this is all your fault." The hunter said before taking a step back to tip the oil container to the side.

Cas watched with wide eyes as the oil started to seep out of the top of the container. Dean had tipped the oil over the angel's head and let it hover, letting the anticipation build. Cas was shaking, waiting for the pain, waiting for whatever Dean was going to do to him. Except, this was something that he was never going to be prepared for. He didn't see it, the way the oil fell from it's container, or how it fell to his bare skin. All he could do is feel the way his skin boiled and how it burned.

His vision turned white and he was sure he could hear Dean chuckle over the way he was screaming. Blinded with pain, his head fell so his chin was touching his collarbone, the way his skin became charred- falling, slipping off of his shoulder and back. He heard it hit the floor with a squish, and felt the way his blood slid down his body. Searing pain coursed through him, never ending, there didn't seem to be a light at the tunnel. Another yell escaped him as he felt the oil burn its way through his scalp, his hair becoming singed. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils and he gasped for air. Breath he couldn't get from the pain, his skin around his lungs burning- his entire body burning.

Even as this was happening he could feel the process of his body repairing itself. His nerves were working over time, every inch of his body was throbbing. He felt pain, oh so much pain only to be followed by the painful revival of his vessel. Tears fell from his eyes and his voice became even more hoarse, calling out for Dean to stop.

"Stop! You want me to stop, Cas?" Dean had put the oil away and was now standing in front of the Angel. "I won't stop." The hunter bent down to make sure Cas could see him. "I _can't_ stop. Not until I know how to bring Sam back." Dean snarled pointing at his chest.

Dean was oddly relaxed, his movements practiced and precise. He's been here before, he felt alive when he did this. His hands were shaking as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He should stop, he knew this was wrong. Standing up and turning back to his table of tricks his line of vision no longer Castiel screaming, yanking on the chains as his body withered in pain. He closed his hands into fists, taking in a shaky breath as relaxed as he was he didn't think he could ever really get used to this. Ten years he listened to the mantras of screams, they became his music. He used to whistle along in Hell. He enjoyed it there, and now he wasn't so sure. Cas was his friend, and now he had turned against him. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind he remembered all the wrong Cas did to him- to Sam. Cas could have saved Sam but he didn't, Cas could go _get _Sam but he won't. Dean knew of what the angel was capable of, yet he never did anything. He just watched as Dean suffered and searched for ways to get Sam out of the cage. If though he knew the answer all along, but even if the hunter had asked Cas to do it, he knew he wouldn't risk it. Cas never would have done that for Sam, not like he did for Dean. Choosing a blade from the table Dean turned back around to his guardian angel.

He looked on as Cas choked up blood, the red liquid spurting from the Angel's mouth and dripping down his lips. Dean bit his own lip, nursing it between his teeth as he watched the angel. He turned the blade in his hand, the tip of it pressed against his finger as he twisted the handle in his other hand. The hunter let himself be taken over by memories, those of him and Sam. They late night rituals of drinking beer after a hunt and the silly pranks they used to pull. Good times. Times that were over now that Sam was gone, and a flare of anger passed over Dean once more. Lining the blade with Cas's forearm and pressed the tip of the blade to the sensitive skin at the inside of Cas's wrist. The cut wasn't deep, not even close but Dean drug the blade down the angel's arm, watching the blood come up to the skin and pour our. Not pour out, ooze out. There was no emotion left in the hunter's expression as he did this. He simply moved the blade up again to the same exact spot and proceeded with the same movements. He never increased his pressure or his speed, he took his time and blocked out Cas's screams.

The angel had his hands wrapped around his chains, yanking and tugging as the torture went on. The metal becoming slick as it bit into his skin and cutting away at his palms. Although it was nothing compared to the way his skin still continued to boil and sizzle as the cool air came in contact with him. His voice was almost nonexistent as Dean continued to drag the blade against his skin. It was slow and Cas became entranced with the way that the blade seemed to easily moved through his skin. The blade, which the angel could feel was serrated was no longer cutting through skin but now through muscle. He vaguely thought that if Dean didn't stop that maybe it would kill him but he knew that wouldn't happen. Seeing as that the hunter had stopped what he was doing to stand in front of him. As soon as the hunter stopped, his body started to heal itself and Dean watched for a moment. Almost fascinated in the way the muscles weaved itself back together before his attention was set back on Cas's face.

"Remember when you asked me to do this to Alistair?" Dean asked and looked at the blade in his hand as if it held all of the memories he possessed.

"I-" Cas started but choked on his own blood. "I had no right to ask that of you." Cas finally said, his voice nothing but a whisper and full of regret. A human emotion, something he was not used to.

"You asked me to anyway." Dean said looking back at Cas. "Did you know how it would affect me?" Dean started to circle around him as he spoke. "Did you know I would spend the next few months haunted by nightmares and having that itch to just-" He paused stopping in front of the Angel and taking the tip of the knife to the sensitive skin on his chest. "Cut."

The wound was deep, the angel's skin tearing as the blood from his vessel poured out over the blade. Cas threw his head back in a hoarse yell, his body was shaking and he wished that he could distance himself from this. Yet, he was bound to the vessel he took over and there was no escaping what Dean had in store for him. The hunter had stopped cutting, watching Cas as he panted and gasped. Tears fell down the angel's face, streaking the blood and dirt that was on his face. He choked out a sob knowing that he full well deserved this because he had let Dean down.

"I didn't want." Cas rasped, another sob escaping him. "I didn't want that from you." He said shaking his head as he tried to catch his breath. "I would have given anything to take your place. To protect you." He said his head still down.

"Protect me?" Dean asked, pulling on the Cas's hair to make him meet his eyes. "You wanted to protect me, Cas? What about Sam, huh?" He asked, his eyes became haunted. "Did you ever think the protect him?" Dean shoved the blade deep into Cas's chest.

Cas could feel as the blade chipped bone and tore through tissue, letting out a surprised cry at Dean's sudden attack. It was only seconds when the hunter twisted the knife with slow measured movements. He was becoming weak, weaker than when he arrived. Before he wasn't able to break free of his chains and fly out of here. Now he would barely keep his hold himself together as his body shook with pain. The skin on his shoulders start to tear and he closed his eyes tight willing himself not to loose control. The moment that Dean brought the blade out his wings jutted out. Launching in each direction, extending to the very wall of the room they were in and fell. The gray dusted feathers looked dull and singed in areas as the wings themselves could not be held up. The feathers lay on the cement floor and Cas's head hung low, his body was sagged. His wrists cracking as his legs gave out even more. He could not see Dean, but he heard as the hunter walked around him looking and inspecting what was before him. The footsteps fading off the the side only to return with more force. Cas wasn't prepared for the fire that passed through him, his vessel, to his very grace. Dean was no longer attacking his humanity but him, as an angel.

His feathers burned and turned black, some turning to ash as his wings started to burn. Moving up quickly to his shoulders and burning the flash on is back. The agony he felt was nothing he had ever felt before and he cried out as his very being was set to fire.

"Where is your God now, Cas!" Dean yelled over his screams.

Cas was sure that Dean continued to cut at his skin, dragging the blade down his torso and arms. The cuts were deep and he was sure that if he were human he would bled out long ago. Dean was angry now, the cuts weren't as measured and precise. They were ugly and uneven, full of rage and despair. The hunter before him was losing the battle within himself and all Cas could think of was that it would be over soon. Then Dean thrust the blade near his collarbone causing Cas to cry out. The hunter had paused, his eyes wide.

"Stop, Dean." Cas begged, tears on his cheeks.

"Your God can't save you now." Dean's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes still out of focus. "He won't heal you, just like he won't heal us. He won't come for you, Castiel. He'll just take away everything you love." Dean's voice was shaking as he brought up his other hand to rest on Cas's shoulder.

"This is the work of you God." Dean said his eyes shinning bright with tears. "This is the God you serve." He said his voice cracking as he pulled out the knife and Cas let out a soft cry.

Throwing the knife to the side, Dean stood next to Cas. He wasn't looking at the angel's face, instead he was looking at the damage he caused. Even as the angel's body slowly started to repair itself and Cas could see as Dean came back into himself. The hunter's eyes were tearful and wide with horror. He brought a shaky hand up to Cas's torso, careful as not to touch any open wounds.

"Oh god." He cried softly finally bringing his head up to look at Cas.

The angel could only look at Dean, his head tilted slightly to the side panting for air. His eyes were half lidded but the color of blue was dull.

"This is my fault." Dean said stepping closer to Cas.

Castiel could feel wetness, warm and not like the blood sticky on his neck. Dean was crying, and he could not comfort him with his restraints. Dean let his head fall in the junction between Cas's should and neck. Cas could only rest his chin on the head of the man that just spent hours on end torturing him. Yet this was till the same man that sacrificed his family to save a world that did nothing but wrong to them. This was the man that blamed himself for things that he could not prevent.

"No." Cas whispered after moments of quite sobs. "It's not your fault, Dean." He said pressing his lips to Dean's hair.

"I'm so sorry." Dean choked out, wrapping an arm loosely around Cas's torso.

The hunter's apology became a mantra. Cas wasn't sure how long they were there, or how long Dean cried apologies to him but soon enough he gather the strength to free himself from his chains. He wasn't sure how he did it, but the next thing he remembers doing is falling to his knees with Dean in his arms. He closed his eyes and let Dean cry against him, his damaged wings coming around as if to shield him. He wings would forever be scorched black but that hardly seemed to matter as the hunter gripped him tighter. Closing his head Cas just held him closer and nuzzled his face deeper into Dean's hair.


	4. Animal I Become

**Chapter Three: Animal I Become**

**Words: 2,557**

A soft breeze blew overhead, and Dean closed his eyes as it passed over him. His hair fluttered and moved in the direction of the wind. A faint smile came upon his lips as he let his head fall back and his body relaxed into the chair he sat on. Beer in one hand and fishing pole in the other he listened to the birds chirp away. The water was quite and he didn't expect to catch anything, he was never that great at fishing anyways. Sammy always caught on to that stuff really fast, and his heart ached for his brother. Opening his eyes he watched the clouds, white and seemingly fluffy. He imagined if he were to reach out and touch one that it would feel like soft cotton, or silk maybe. The sky was a crystal blue, he never remembered seeing such a color before. Never quite remembering the sky that blue and beautiful.

The dock he sat on was wooden and sturdy, probably not having been built too long ago. Dean felt at home here, not that he knew where he was but he felt like he belonged. That this chair he sat on was made for him and the song that the birds were singing was just for him. His own personal serenade, his own paradise. His own Heaven.

He felt him first, before he saw him. Almost like there was a change in the wind or a different feeling in the air. It continued to amaze him how he suddenly got a sixth sense for him. There were multiple reasons why he thought he could feel the Angel but they didn't seem to matter as he came closer. Dean didn't turn around as he felt Cas come to stand next to his chair, he didn't even turn around to look at him.

A sense of dread came over him, maybe even guilt and now all he felt like was running away. Looking down he saw blood on his hands, dripping- bright and red. His beer crashed to the ground, the bottle cracking and spilling its contents. The fishing pole was discarded, thrown into the lake and if he wasn't so distressed he probably would have watched as it floated away.

Instead, Dean wiped fervently at his pants, attempting to wipe away his sin. After a moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself willing himself to take it easy, and when he opened his eyes once more the stains were gone. Now he could feel Cas staring at him, but Dean could not look him in the eye. He kept his eyes cast down but his chin was up and if you looked on from afar it would seem as if he was being scolded for something. In so many ways he thought he was, Cas looking at him with blue steady eyes. His face unyielding to the emotions he felt, his human emotions.

Gesturing out with an arm, Cas looked around them and observed Dean's Heaven. Letting his grace soak in the peace here. When he looked back over to the hunter, his charge, he let his arm fall back down to his side.

"Why are we here, Dean?" Cas asked, voice rough and deep. It spoke of business and speculation, Dean had lost him and he deserved that.

"You tell me." Dean brought his eyes up to look at Cas, full of remorse, apologies, hatred, love, and so much more. He was never able to hide from Cas and the Angel realized it was not Dean who brought them there.

Cas did nothing but stand there looking back at Dean, the hunter was now looking directly at the Angel. In this, Cas was forced to look upon the only man who could ever bring him down, make him fall. Already, he had gone against his brother's and sister's just to save this one man. Angel's are not weak creatures, it takes a lot of power to bring one down and Dean had managed to do it in one night. Yet, that was on Cas, he was too blame for that and now he was left thinking of the words from his deceased brother, Uriel. He had lost sight of what was important and he let himself start to fall. He has disobeyed and for what? A human man.

Angels are holy creatures, sent by God to be as warriors of Heaven. Castiel was a soldier and he had failed in his duty because of a human whom he had found himself sacrificing everything for. Why? Because of the things that Dean has spoken for, freewill, never succumbing to fate, and making ones own decisions. Cas recalled the countless times the hunter lectured him about free agency and telling him that he shouldn't follow blindly. When he had found that Uriel had turned against him and was the one killing so many of their own brother's and sister's that is when he joined Dean. The Angel's had turned on themselves and where was God in all of this? So Cas clung to the only person-creation from God- that made sense. He had started to doubt, the first step to disobedience and he was congratulated. This still left him torn, what is that God wanted him to do? Was he on the right path?

Looking at the hunter before him now, he saw Dean as a threat. Every instinct within himself saying to destroy this creature created by his Father. That he has gone against the will of God and had averted the Apocalypse. Even so, Castiel could not bring himself to harm this man. That was not his place, instead he approached the man that had torn him down, caused him pain, made him bleed, made him hate but also made him love. Stopping just in front of the hunter, their faces inches apart and Cas was sure Dean would take a step back and mumble about personal space. Except he didn't, instead he hung his head, his fists closing at his sides in shame.

Cas looked beyond Dean, again taking in what his Heaven was like. He wished he could have Dean stay here, that he would not have to experience everything that was to come. Suddenly he had become the victim worried about his attacker, even as he tried he could not bring himself to feel anything but sorrow for the things that Dean had done. Bringing his hand up he let it fall to the hunter's shoulder and reality came crashing down around them.

The room as it may, was still dark and the light bulb over head was swinging back and forth. The small spotlight it created moving over them and then disappearing behind them in its what seemed like never ending movements. Blood that was once free flowing out of him was now sticky an in the early stages of drying out on the flesh of his vessel. He could feel as every cell in his vessel repaired itself and became whole again. He would be completely healed in a matter of hours, all except his wings would never return to what they once were.

An Angel's wings are most precious, and rarely seen. There times that it was speculated if Angel's even had wings. While God had created Angels to be his warriors, their greatest strength was also their greatest weakness, were their wings. Easily hidden but just as easily destroyed in battle if not careful. Now his, that used to be so brilliantly white and shinning like the light of Heaven were painted charcoal. Dull and ragged looking, while the feathers themselves would repair he could never get his light back. Black was the color of the fallen, of the damned and of the damaged.

Dean was clinging to him, his hands closing around Cas's arms and his forehead resting against his collarbone. There was no going back for the hunter, and even as he begged for forgiveness he knew he would not get it. Guilt choked him and tears burned hot in his eyes and throat. Apologies kept flowing from his lips but Dean had gone past the point of no return and now there was nothing he could do to make things right. His eyes were closed tight, eyelashes dripping of tears and then he was suddenly taken back in time.

_Cas sighed looking back behind him at the room that contained Alistair. Dean was standing in front of him and as he looked behind the angel at the door that separated him from his demon he shook his head. _

_ "No, no way am I going in there Cas." He said cold, calm and dangerously. _

_ His eyes were hard but his palms were sweating. His heart pounded in his chest and he swore that Cas could hear it. The Angel's eyes were wide and sad. _

_ "You have to, Dean." Castiel tilted his head to the side studying the hunter's reaction._

_ "No." He shook his head. _

_ "Demons are killing Angel's. These are my brother's and sister's, Dean. I would give anything not to send you in that room but this is above me." Cas said firmly, his face now close to Dean's._

_ "Cas, if you send me in there-" He choked, his mouth going dry. "You won't like what comes out of there." Dean said pointing at the door, looking at Cas trying to make his point._

_ "You will go in there because we asked you to." Uriel's voice came from behind Dean._

_ "I'm sorry, Dean. This is not my decision." Cas said looking away from the hunter. "What if it were Sam you had to watch die." The Angel spoke softly that Dean almost didn't here him. _

_ He had watched Sam die, but he brought him back. Making a deal that put him in the spot he was in now. Except he could let Cas keep watching his siblings die, nobody deserved that. Even if he refused, he would be responsible for the deaths of how many people if he didn't find out who it was doing all the killing? Uriel was one step away from demolishing all of human kind just to get justice, and Dean couldn't allow that. With one last look at Cas, Dean squared his shoulders and looked to the door._

_ "I'm going to need a few things." He stated flatly._

He had dreamed of that very moment, getting his revenge on Alistair. Dishing out exactly what the Demon had dished to him, torturing him as he had tortured him. Except he was going to make it last longer, it would be sweeter that way but even as Cas asked him to do it. Giving him the very opportunity he secretly craved for, he was scared to return to that place again. To become the very monster Alistair molded him to be.

When it was all said and done, and Alistair was dead by Sam's hand. After they had left that place and Cas had returned to Heaven. The angel came back, and knelt at Dean's feet.

_Cas appeared before Dean, who was sitting on his bed after a long day of investigation. Sam was out grabbing them something to eat and Dean was sitting at the edge of his bed. Elbows on his knees and palms pressed together. His lips were pressed against his knuckles as he looked at the spot in the carpet that was just slightly darker then the rest of the floor. _

_ The nightmares had gotten worse, and he dreamed of hurting Sam, or hurting anyone he ever cared about. The images of blood crusted knives and screamed haunted him and when Cas came into the room with a flutter of wings he didn't even notice. _

_ It wasn't until the Angel came to stand in front of him did he even know that Cas was there. Dropping to his knees in front of him, Cas cupped his hands around his. Tears were shinning in the Angel's bright blue eyes. _

_ "Forgive me." Cas choked out, tears falling from his eyes and his chin trembling. _

_ The Angel bowed his head and Dean brought one hand out of their grasp and laid it gently on Cas's head. He knew if he could, Cas would have prevented him from going back to that place. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Cas's hair. It was a kiss but a gesture of comfort, a sign showing that Dean forgave him. _

The irony of Dean coming back to torture the one person that forced him back to that place was not lost on him. Even so, he knew he could not blame this on Cas. This was on him and he scoffed at his own weakness. He had let the monster out and now he was begging for forgiveness for **his **transgression. When Cas had sent him into that room, Sam was there to comfort him. Sam wasn't even Sam then, he was just a shell of a brother- addicted to Demon blood but it was him who finally killed Alistair. Now, Sam was gone again and Dean should have gone to Cas instead of letting everything build. Of course, it was too late now.

Opening his eyes, he pulled away enough to look up Cas. Dean could not deny that the Angel before him was indeed a divine being, as much as he had fought at the idea of God. He could not deny the power that was within Cas. That's when he saw the true extent of the damage he caused, looking into the angel's eyes which were once so alive and vibrant. Were now empty and distant- hollow. Even as Cas held him in a sign of comfort he was not present, and the hunter could feel his departure. The bond they once shared was weak, almost non-existent leaving Dean cold.

Not breaking their eye contact Dean gave a slight shake of his head and Cas took that as he understood. The hunters eyes were shinning a bright green and Cas brought his still injured hand to wipe away the final tears that Dean cried. The hunter was silently pleading, _don't leave me. _Bringing up his hand from the angel's shoulder, Dean closed it around Cas's hand that was still on his face and he let out a choke sob. His apologies fell on silent ears, he knew this even as he pleaded with Cas to forgive him. Cas looked away from Dean then, over his shoulder as if he was seeing something that Dean couldn't. Realizing there was nothing else he could do Dean let his hand fall back down to his side and he looked around them with tear filled eyes. Pulling away Cas removed his hand from Dean's face and place two fingers on the hunter's forehead. Dean shook his head as his eyes met Cas's once more, blue eyes that spoke of finality and green eyes that cried devastation.

"It's okay to forget, Dean." Cas spoke in a harsh whisper.

Before he could protest, the world around him went black and Dean fell limply in Castiel's arms . The Angel stood slowly with the hunter in his arms, his battle having been won.

**Author's Note: This chapter was difficult to write, but I am extremely proud of how the plot had developed. **

**Still more to come. **

**Keep reading!**

**~Ava**


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